


Application Pending

by hsophiec



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 02:32:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hsophiec/pseuds/hsophiec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has recently returned to Beacon Hills after a rough time away from home. Upon returning, he decides to pursue his dream of owning a restaurant, and applies for a loan to get started. Working at a job he hates, Stiles has an opportunity to spread some good in the world by approving loans to people who wouldn't otherwise get them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Application Pending

Stiles leaned back in his chair and groaned, stretching his arms over his head as he went. His knuckles cracked loudly, and he pulled them back down to shake out the tension. Leaning forward in his seat, he draped one arm over his desk and rested his head on it, turning sideways to face the computer screen. Glaring up at it, he moved his mouse aimlessly around for a while, highlighting words such as ‘fiscal responsibility’ and ‘highest possible customer care’.

“What does that even _mean_?” he whispered angrily, “I’m a loan officer, not a waiter. If your credit rating’s in the pan, then you’re not getting a loan. End of story. My attention to your ‘needs as a customer’ aren’t going to make a blind bit of difference,” he continued. Turning his face into his arm, he groaned again.

“Stupid reviews,” he said, “Stupid people coming to review us. Stupid bank.” He sat up and waved the mouse over the desk in frustration.

“My customer service is just fine, thanks!” he yelled at the screen.

“I’m so glad to hear it,” drawled a voice from Stiles’ doorway, “And here I was wondering if I’d made a mistake letting you interact with the public,” the man continued sarcastically.

“Oh, Mr. Fields, you do know how to flatter a guy,” Stiles replied, deadpan, staring at his boss with barely concealed contempt.

Stiles watched happily as the smile on Fields’ face became more forced, and he continued, “The higher ups who are coming to see us probably won’t want to talk to you directly, but I need you to keep up your, uhh, standards of customer service until they leave,” he paused, staring at Stiles more forcefully, “And no more approving loans that shouldn’t go through. I really shouldn’t have to say this to you again, but you need to stop letting in every guy with a sob story.”

“Hey, I am pretty darn tight when it comes to approvals!” Stiles protested.

Fields continued unperturbed, “That’s a downright lie and you know it. You’re the worst person here for giving out loans to people who shouldn’t get them. Fix it.” Fields pointed angrily at Stiles and stormed out of the room, leaving Stiles scowling at the closed door.

“I don’t approve just anything,” Stiles sulked, “We both have different definitions of ‘in the pan’, that’s all.” He sighed again, shifting in his seat and preparing to finish reading the new customer care directive.

Barely at the end of the next paragraph, Stiles sighed and closed the document. Fields and his customer service regime be damned.

The phone on his desk rang brightly, its shrill tone mocking his attempt at resisting authority. Julia’s voice came down the line, “Hey Stiles, there’s a guy looking to apply for a personal loan, can I send him over to you?”

“Sure,” Stiles said, resting his chin on his hand, “Does he look like he has a sob story? Apparently that’s the only way I’ll approve him.” He cradled the phone on his shoulder and flicked a paper clip off his desk.

“Come on, Stiles, don’t let Fields get to you,” Julia said, “He just enjoys flexing his limited authority over us philistines.”

Stiles laughed, “Yeah, I guess. Ok, send the new guy in. Let’s see what we can do for him.” Stiles waited on the line as he heard Julia relay his message.

“You know, he’s actually kinda hot,” she whispered, “Maybe he’s single? You should find out, then we can fight over him.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that,” Stiles smiled, “But if we do fight then it’ll be the usual stakes? To the death, of course.”

He heard Julia laugh down the hall and over the phone at the same time, “Obviously,” she chuckled, “Good luck, Stiles.”

“Bye, Julia,” Stiles replied, replacing the handset as a knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” Stiles said, glancing up at the man walking into his office.

The same height as Stiles, the man in front of Stiles was almost twice as broad; his build evident even below a thick leather jacket, which, Stiles noted as he glanced down the rest of Biker Jacket, was by far the largest piece of clothing on the guy. Everything else looked like it had been vacuum packed into place, his clothing was so tight. Stiles raised his eyebrows appreciatively.

“Hi,” Biker Jacket said, “I’m here about getting a personal loan approved?”

Stiles, who had been openly staring at the man, mentally shook himself and raised his eyes to meet the stranger’s. “Uhh, yeah, that’s me,” he flustered, “I mean, that’s my job. To approve you. I mean, your loans. I approve your loans. Not you,” Stiles said, gesticulating wildly whilst his face burned like a furnace.

The man stared at him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Well, that’s good then. I’m in the right place,” he said, moving forward and holding out his hand over Stiles’ desk, “Derek Hale.”

Stiles took it, having recovered from his mental lapse, “Nice to meet you. Stiles Stilinski.”

Derek furrowed his eyebrows further, “That’s an unusual name,” he said, “But I bet you get that a lot.”

“Yeah, it’s only a nickname; my parents weren’t _that_ crazy about the letter S,” Stiles said, shrugging as they both sat down, “My first name’s a pain for most people to pronounce, so I stick with Stiles for convenience.”

“Makes sense,” Derek said, before nodding at the name plate in front of him, “I see that applies to your job as well.”

“Things go much smoother with the boss if he knows what name to shout,” Stiles replied, opening the bank’s loan catalogue on the computer. “So you’re after a personal loan? Wanna tell me a bit about why you need it?”

“Well, as you can probably tell from my credit rating, I’m not doing so well financially,” Derek paused, looking at Stiles wearily.

“Yeah, I’m seeing that a bit here,” Stiles said, moving closer to the screen and resting his chin on his hand as he continued to read.

Derek frowned. “I thought as much,” he said, “Listen, I’m not gonna waste your time. I knew my rating was too low to get something approved. I’ll just leave it for and now and come back some other time.” He stood up quickly and turned to go, his frown deepening.

“Hey, wait, that’s not what I meant,” Stiles said, “I was just saying that I could see it on our system.” He held up a hand to indicate that Derek should wait. “But I can also see that you’ve had an account with us for years and never asked for a loan before, in fact you seem to have been doing fine until the last few months. From what I can tell you’ve been successfully fiscally responsible for a number of years. I’m not going to let one bad period cloud my judgement until I at least find out what happened and why you want the loan.”

Derek stood by the chair and narrowed his eyes at Stiles, “Why would you do that? Isn’t it risky for the bank to be lending to people like me?”

Stiles frowned, “First of all, ‘people like you’ need every bit of help they can get, and I’m in a good position to help,” he paused, remembering Fields’ words to him earlier that day, “And secondly, it’s not a risk to the bank, it’s a risk to my job. Which, honestly, is a risk I’m willing to take.” He let go of the breath he’d been holding as Derek sank back into his chair.

“So go on, tell me about why you want the loan,” Stiles continued.

Derek raised his eyebrows, “Are you sure?”

“Not really, but every time you ask I have another chance to refuse you, so let’s get to it already,” Stiles said, eyes widening, “I didn’t mean that we-”

“I know what you meant,” Derek replied. He stared down at his hands and the file in his lap before continuing, “I don’t know if you can see on there,” he gestured at the computer, “But a few years ago I inherited part of my parent’s life insurance.” He paused and glanced up at Stiles, who said nothing but waved at the computer to indicate that he’d seen it on the system.

“Well anyway, I’ve basically been living off that for the last few years and, due to one reason or another, I’ve never really settled down anywhere. I’ve never been able to get myself together, let alone a job,” he added, looking like a man resigned to the worst about himself. “A few months ago I decided enough was enough. I still held myself responsible for what had happened, even though I knew it really had nothing to do with me. I was sick of being a wandering stranger and so I settled on coming back home to Beacon Hills.”

Stiles nodded, listening intently, “Coming home, sure. Sounds like a good move.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’d hoped. I arrived a few weeks ago and then realised I hadn’t given any thought to what I was going to do when I got here,” Derek said.

“And now you have?” Stiles prompted.

Derek took a deep breath, “I want to open a restaurant.”

“What kind of restaurant?”

“Mexican, I think.”

“Dude, I love Mexican,” Stiles said, “I’ve been hoping one would open in Beacon Hills, but nothing so far.”

“Oh great, no competition then,” Derek said, smiling.

“That sounds excellent as far as I’m concerned,” Stiles said, salivating slightly at the thought of burritos, “But I have to ask, what happened to your account in the last few months?”

Derek sighed and looked back down at his hands, “Basically the money ran out. It wasn’t a huge amount to begin with, but I tried to make it last. Deep down I knew it wouldn’t keep going forever, but when the time came and it ran out, I wasn’t ready. Since then I’ve been working minimum wage jobs in nearby towns; nothing well paid but it kept me off the streets at least.”

“Is that what made you come back?”

“Sort of. I realised that I was blaming myself for something I had no control over, and also that if I didn’t get my act together now, it’d only become more difficult in the future. They say it takes more courage to ask for help than to carry on by yourself, so I reached out to everyone I knew back home asking for a chance. I was lucky, one of my parent’s friends has offered me a place to stay until I can get back on my feet,” Derek said. “One of the conditions of staying with them is that I have to come and ask for a loan to get started on the restaurant. I don’t want to be a burden on them indefinitely, and I want to repay them properly for their kindness.”

Derek, who had continued staring at his hands, looked up at Stiles, who greeted him with a smile, “Well, Mr. Hale, how much were you hoping to apply for?”

“As much as I could get, to be honest,” Derek said, leaning forward in his chair to sit closer to Stiles’ desk, “I’ve got the plan for the restaurant if you want to see it? There’s a great space up for sale in the centre of town at the moment, but on top of renting that and refitting the store, my estimates were at the high end of your allowance limit.”

Stiles took the file Derek handed him and leafed through it, “This has to be the most comprehensive plan I’ve ever seen,” Stiles said, amazed. “It looks like you’ve covered every possible situation in here.”

“I don’t like to be unprepared,” Derek replied.

“I can see that,” Stiles said. “Well, Mr. Hale, on behalf of Beacon Hills Savings and Investments, I’d like to offer you a full personal loan of $15,000. How does that sound?”

Derek gaped at Stiles, “Really?”

“You underestimate my need for Mexican food,” Stiles said, “But you and your idea also seem like a good investment, so I’d be happy to help you out.”

“That’s, that’s really amazing,” Derek said, standing up again and prompting Stiles to do the same. “Thank you so much,” he said, shaking Stiles hand vigorously.

“No worries, dude,” Stiles laughed, “I’ll put it through now and then you should be ready to go in the next few days. You’d better let the real estate agents know that you’re interested in the shop you mentioned, just tell them the loan has been approved and you’re waiting for it to come through.”

“Seriously, thank you,” Derek said, reaching out and shaking Stiles’ hand again, “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Stiles smiled again, “Just tell me where you’re opening and you can repay me by serving the best Mexican food in town.”

“I thought you said there weren’t any other Mexican restaurants?”

“There aren’t,” Stiles said, “So you’re the best by default - the best before you’ve even opened! And the best as far as I’m concerned.”

Derek smiled and raised his eyebrows again, “Sure. I’ll let you know when we open, if everything goes to plan. Thanks again.”

“Seriously, it’s no problem,” Stiles said as Derek turned to leave, “Good luck, dude. I hope it’s everything you want.”

Derek pulled the door open and smiled, “Thanks,” he said, closing the door behind him.

Stiles exhaled and threw himself back into his chair. Picking up the phone, he immediately punched through to reception.

“So how’d it go?” Julia asked, “Didn’t I tell you he was hot?”

“Well, I’ve no idea whether he’s single, but you were right. He gives new meaning to the phrase ‘tall, dark, and mysterious’, jeez,” Stiles replied, his forehead resting on his arm.


End file.
